Friday, June 19, 2015


On the screen beside the mango tree, a grasshopper stretched its yellow legs. Its markings are black and orange and red. It crawls its way up toward the roof, the sun's own child, while ping pong is played. I gnaw on a cold turkey wing and drink a cold beer. A mason wasp squeezes through a hole in the screen.  The green hanging mangoes look flushed and tired, the red in their cheeks tells us just wait, a few more days.

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